So, the best hamburger in San Francisco is available at a place not too far from our house. It’s 1/2 pound of very high-quality beef, hand formed, and grilled to perfection by people who know that pushing down with a spatula on the patty while it’s cooking is a crime.
They do 200 burgers one day a week, and when they run out, they’re gone. Too bad, try again next week. Their fame has spread wide and far, and they’re usually out well before we get there.
But tonight was different. I got home just before 8:00pm, and spied two burgers on the grill from across the street. I hustled over to place an order…three minutes too late. The last two burgers were those sizzling away, with claims already staked.
But when I got home a smile upon Rochelle’s face greeted me. She had gotten home a half-hour earlier. In other words, 27 minutes before they ran out. I ate my half burger, medium rare, with cheddar and chili and grilled onions, while typing this up.
And no, I am not going to tell you where this place is or what night they have burgers — you’re already eating my burgers, dammit!